Memories of steel
by Eilisande
Summary: Laputa flies in the sky, forgotten by all and hidden inside the Dragon's nest. Only a few robots still take care of the city. What can a robot feel about an empty city ?


Traduction of one of my texts. English is not my first language so please be indulgent and don't hesitate to correct me !

-.-.-.-.

The wind runs through the gardens of Laputa, softly shaking the morning dew hanged on the grass and the flowers, primroses, and daisies, which starts to open their buds. Above the clouds of the Dragon's nest, the sun begins to arise. Its beams brush the royal greenhouse and heats it. One after another, its smalls occupants wake up. It's a chorus of meowing and squeaking.  
Finally, some beams brush the robots who dwell in the garden. Until dawn, they're only shapes and after, very few of them will move, if only one. With enough time, the beams heat their metal carcasses. A row of buttons lights on one of them and the robot wakes up. Its sensors get started. It moves its arms and legs. Its the only one to move. Immediately, the greenhouse's animals surround it. It slows down, careful to not accidentally crush them and it starts its patrol.

It checks its data tapes. It is the gardener robot of the great tree of the royal greenhouse. Last activation, seven hours earlier. Last mission order was given seven hundred years, two months, nine days, seven minutes ago. It replays the recording on its screen. An old man with a white beard looks at it; he wears a crown and a golden breastplate wearing the Laputa's sigil. He smiles as he gently squeezes the robot's finger. « Watch upon the plants. We'll come back when mankind is wiser. We need to grow. ». Trees grow and give fruits. The robot picks the fruits to feed the animals. Growing is a good thing. It doesn't know what wiser mean.

The mission has not changed. The old man has not come back. The robot passes to another recording and a musical noise rises in the air. A child's laugh, says its data tapes. It hasn't heard that sound since the human's departure. The sound of birds, of insects, is nice. Still, it would like to hear children and to see their footprints on the grass one more time. The recording ends and it switches off its long term memory. Using it isn't good. It's a loss of energy.

It concentrates on its patrol once again. It stops and picks up pieces of glass on the grass. It lifts its head; there is a new hole on the greenhouse's canopy, far above its head. The tree is still growing up. It's a good thing. Men would be proud if they saw how it obey its mission. The trees grow and the bushes are spreading. Good things.

It makes a detour to gently put the broken glass at the bottom of a pound and stays a moment to look at the sun's reflection on the dozen of broken pieces the robot let there year after year. It's like a dozen of tiny rainbows. Six fox-squirrels run between the robot's legs to drink near it. They jostle while they play. One of them yap to get its attention. The robot stretches out its metal hand to help the little animal. They know each other. This little fellow often comes to see the robot and always have requirements. The robot recognizes him, because he has white marks, like lightning, on the back. His mother had them too. Maybe it's something existing in all the lineage. The robot doesn't remember, because it often must delete its memories of lost generations if it wants to continue to work. The gardener robot of the second terrace refused to delete even one of its memories. Three hedgehog families made their lair under the roots of the rose and the robot's legs who will never move again. The gardener robot of the great tree of the royal greenhouse is very careful to not end like this robot and the others. Thankfully, they're still some of them to continue the watch.  
Like every morning, the robot uses its sensors to look for its brother's signals. They're all here, those which still works, all eight of them. The gardener robot of the second terrace yew's path, the gardener robot of the third terrace azaleas's grove, the gardener robot of the second terrace's lawn, the gardener robot of the fish's pound of the western first terrace, the gardener robot of the eastern first terrace's colonnade, the gardener robot of the third terrace hazel's groove and the gardener robot of the inferior wall walk. Of course, they all expanded their sector of work to replace the others. This robot deals with all the royal greenhouse, the king's graves and the north of the first terrace. It cleans, treats and feeds everything that lives here. It takes care of the ferns, wisterias, and roses. It helps the trees to grow without stealing each other's light.

The robot never sees its brothers who still work. They're too busy and energy must be saved to hold all day and charge whenever there's sun. They must not end like the gardener robot of northern second level greenhouse which went down in the citadel to see if there were still usable batteries and never came up. They can't charge without the sun. If their batteries discharge too much or too fast, the crystal will put them on stand by. The crystal has to be sure they have enough energy to welcome back the royal family or to defend Laputa in case of an attack.

On its shoulder, the fox-squirrel with the white marks purrs and enjoys the spring heat. Its sensors indicate it's hot in the greenhouse, but not excessively so. As a precaution, the robot goes anyway to the panels that control the darkening of the canopy and checks if it works. It cleans the moss growing around. The robot must help the plants, except when they're bothering the growing or the health of others. Pannels are forbidden to moss. However, it leaves alone the climbing fuschia which blossoms around, only checking if they have enough water.

When it's done, the robot picks up all the fallen moss in its palms and goes to the gardener robot of the south of the greenhouse's hypomées. This one shut down ten years ago. It decided to do it because it can't move anymore. It had to make this choice A big maple tree was threatening to fall unto the pound where the greenhouse's carps come to reproduce. This robot shut down, but it is still useful: it now supports the tree. On its shoulder, chickadees are making a nest. The gardener robot of the great tree offers them the moss and puts it carefully near their nest. The birds chirp in glee.

The patrol is ending. The trees are not sick, there is no branch to cut, no broken leg to straighten, but the robot does not want to shut down yet. Grudgingly, it put down the fox-squirrel at the foot of a philodendron's grove. His brothers and sisters join him there. They playfully try to overthrow him before rolling in a ball against each other and start to sleep, purring.

Just to be sure, the robot sends a signal to the great crystal. It reports its presence and asks if it can be useful. But the crystal stays mute since the royal family departure. It cannot answer its questions because it was the king who gave the orders using the crystal, not the crystal itself. An answer comes through, however, the same as every time.

The last message of the king. « Man was not made to live in the air with the power to destroy those who crawl on earth. We'll go down to live among the man because we cannot live so hight without wanting to dominate everything else. One day, man will come back. He'll have learned to love all that grow and live without wanting to possess it. We created you to be our army, to conquer the world for us and keep our hands clean of the blood and the mud. Today, I give you my last order before the royal family's return: do not leave Laputa, but you have no obligation to guard the city. Before our return, sleep, dream, do what you want. I only pray that you'll never be soldiers anymore. »  
It remembers the first time it heard this message. The king pronounced it just after he talked to this robot, which then guarded the tombs of his ancestors. After that, he gets down in the bowels of Laputa to pronounce this speech to the crystal, then went to a ship and never came back.  
They all stood frozen, asking themselves what was expected of them. They waited without moving for nearly twenty years before they understood the man was not coming back soon. Most of them then decided to go back to their launch silos, ready to resume the fight when the king would give the order. They were ready to defend Laputa. Only a few of them, a little over a hundred, made another choice, to serve Laputa like they served the king. They choose to wait for the return of men by taking care of everything they loved. They divided the street to look after it and they ceased to use their weapons. Instead, they learned to took care of ferns and to strengthen the burrows of little mammals.  
They're only nine now. The others choose to shut down or were forced to do it. The gardener robot of the north greenhouse's orange trees said man would never come back, gave up and went to its launch silo, like the other soldier robots. None of those who remained had protested.  
The robot looks up. The sun shines, bright. It's nearly noon and the robot have overstrained its battery. They discovered after too many losses they only have five hours of charge, with the sun's help. Worse, this time gradually decreases. There is no one left to repair them and they have never learned how to do it themselves.

The robot raises a hand to the wall to pick a bright red fuschia and gives it to the small fox-squirrel who came back. The mammal smells the flower and shakes his head, surprised. He does not find the flower interesting and go away frolicking, to pursue a dragonfly. The gardener robot put the flower on the top of his brothers and sisters, still asleep.

Satisfied, it goes back to his place of watching. It's near the greenhouse's door, where it can take the sunlight the longest time when morning comes. And, when it will wake up, the first thing it will see will be the great tree and the birds who peck at its seeds. It is good to see the result of its labor when you wake up.

As it walks, one of its brothers sends a message to all of them. It answers it and stops to listen. The gardener robot of the inferior wall walk has fallen. The robot gardener of the second terrace's lawn saw it from the watchtower where it checked the swallow nests that are hooked there. Below, it saw the other gardener walk too close to a ledge that became very crumbly in the last few years. It fell.  
Maybe it will survive its fall. Maybe it will find the men. The king must be dead, the human lifespan is not much longer than carps and fox-squirrels. However, the children of his grand-children must still be here. Maybe they only need something to remember them of Laputa. Maybe someday soon there will be new children's laugh in the garden and they all fly happily forever, watching the clouds and tending the garden.

It would be good. In any case, it's a good enough reason for the robot to, at last, shut down until tomorrow, like every day and for many more days. It is ready to switch off its screens but it sees the fox-squirrel running in its direction. He asks to climb one more time. To be safe, it unfolds one of its arms for the little beast to use it as a slide when he'll want to go. Then, it shut down, as its friend starts to purr.


End file.
